Friday, April 25, 2014

Art in a
tiny house is not a common topic, but I think it’s an important subject. Now, I
am no art aficionado. I’m 13. But I do find things beautiful (as most of us
do). In a tiny house there is not much wall space, especially if you have lots
of windows (as I do). But there is always space. So take a moment right now to
find that place on your wall that is begging for a painting or picture. We all
have that space, so go find yours.

Once you
find the blank space, the next step is finding art. However, do
not buy a painting for the sake of having something on your wall. This
defeats the purpose of art. In my home, I have four pieces of art. I have my
dad’s boating license:

A picture of
the boat he captained:

A souvenir
from my TED Talk in New Orleans:

And a melted
crayon portrait:

(I have made
about a thousand of these; if you would like a tutorial comment down below)

These
paintings/pictures/memorabilia/souvenirs make me extremely happy every time I
see them. I also think they fit perfectly into my home. There is a quote by
William Morris that says, “Have nothing in your home that is neither useful nor
beautiful.” I believe this is a rule to live by in a tiny house.

Just to
reiterate, bigger is not always better. If you have a blank wall, you don’t
need fill it up with meaningless pictures. Tell a story with your space. Size doesn't matter (hehe) so find something that makes you happy.

Tell me; do you have any pieces of art you absolutely love? Is there a picture or
painting you’ve had for a long time? Tell me in the comments.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

To start
this off I would like to state: my house is DONE. Yes, yes, yes. I
know. Who would have thought I would finish? Not me. Just kidding. (Kind of) My
second statement is this past weekend was the first official Tiny House Conference (THC),
and I was there! And I presented. *whispers* the video should be out soon; check
here. You will notice if you have been following the THC I was supposed to
bring my house. But for those of you that don’t know: I was supposed to bring
my house.

My house did not make it. And you can thank the expletive hauler. The
horror story started last Tuesday. The hauler e-mailed my mum and asked if he could
haul my house on Tuesday instead of Thursday to which we replied no. The house
is not done yet. He showed up anyway. And leave us with the comment, “Pretty
good for a couple of girls.” At this point my mother and I had a bad feeling
about this guy, but we didn’t tell each other. Why? I have no idea.

So Thursday night
arrived, and it was time to move the house. Take note that the house was finished about
one hour before the guy came, so it was practically like our newborn baby. The
moment he took off I instantly regretted having him come. He lurched forward and I
could hear all the pops and cracks from the wood shifting inside. The biggest heart attack
happened when instead of backing straight off the slab (as we told him) he went
off the side, and as soon as the first wheel came off the slab, it popped off.
No, I am not joking. Most sane people at this point would have said, “Put it
back on the slab; we aren’t moving the house.” Not me. I thought, “Oh I can just
pull it into the neighborhood and fix the tire and it’ll be great!” Then he
started running into the fence. Not once, not twice, but three times. Which in
turn banged-up the edges of the house. Then he ran into the branches from the
tree just outside our gate, peeling and bending back the metal roofing.

At this
point both my mother and I told him to put it back in the yard. We didn't trust him to take it to the conference. He totally ignored us and pulled it into the neighborhood. Then
stepped out of his truck and said, “Well, I don’t know what to do with it now.” If
looks could kill at that moment, he would have been ten feet under. I am proud that
neither my mother nor I laced our sentences with every curse word imaginable when we said,
“Just put it in the yard; we aren’t taking it.” To which he replied, “If I can.”
Let’s just take a moment to comprehend this. Imagine all of this and throw in a
condescending voice and looks. Anyone would be ready to fly off the handle.
He finally forced it into the yard and left with the comment, “I’m
sorry you couldn’t get your house out.” After the anger had gone away, the hurt set in. It hurts when you work so hard, for so long and somebody comes in and (basically) trashes all you have done.

On a lighter
note: the THC was great. I got to meet so many of the people I have been
following online. For example I got to meet Dee Williams who is basically the queen of the Tiny House Community, and Macy Miller with MiniMiller, the first Tiny House baby. I have to admit I was a bit star struck.

But I think
that wraps it up. Upcoming blogs will include a better version of a tour,
budget, and my first actual night in my house. It’s unbelievable that just a
few weeks ago it looked like this:

And now it
looks like this:

So now that I’m
finished with my house…which one of you is next? What’s holding you back? If a
thirteen-year-old girl can do it, why not you?

Monday, April 7, 2014

Standby for a wrap-up: stats, facts, and figures about La Petite Maison. We just got back from the tiny house conference and I have a few things to finish up on the house, but I will post a total budget, a better video, and lots of pix!